


A Cramp in the Plan

by Curator



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Humor, Menstrual Cycle, Mess hall showdown, Replicator rations, the first officer’s job is HR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23394505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curator/pseuds/Curator
Summary: What if the menstrual cycles synced for nearly all of the women on Voyager? This is not a serious story, so please don’t be offended by stereotypes. Takes place sometime in season two.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 22
Kudos: 63





	A Cramp in the Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks (or blame?) to BlackVelvet, cheile, arcadia75, and ariella884 for encouraging me to write this — and to skatergirl83 for inadvertently sealing my decision to finally post it. Additional appreciation to ariella884 for a quick beta.

Tom Paris furtively checked the corridor, then ran to catch up with Chakotay.

”Got a minute?”

The first officer didn’t slow his stride. “Make it fast, Paris. I have B’Elanna irritated at me for some sort of problem with the warp core that isn’t my fault, the captain finding flaws in reports that are perfectly fine, then there’s —”

”Let me guess,” Tom stopped Chakotay with a hand to his shoulder, “some other female officer who seems especially angry or pissed off or unreasonable?”

Chakotay’s head tilted. “How did you know?”

Tom leaned in as if sharing a secret. “I have two sisters, Chakotay. Both older than I am. Can’t you tell what’s going on here?”

Before Chakotay could answer, two female crewmembers strode by. Their conversation was just loud enough to be overheard. “... I swear to Zefram Cochrane that if I don’t eat some chocolate before …”

The men looked at each other. Chakotay’s dark eyes widened. “All of them?”

Tom had a padd in his hand and he began to tap it. “According to my calculations, Stellar Cartography went first, which makes sense because the Delaney sisters could have been synced before they were even posted to _Voyager_. The female security officers were next, then the women in Engineering. After that, it was only a matter of time.”

Chakotay, of course, was aware women’s periods could synchronize and had even heard rumors of it happening to entire dormitory floors at Starfleet Academy. But it hadn’t occurred to him it could happen on _Voyager_ — a ship with 74 women aboard.

“Do they know?” Chakotay demanded.

Tom shook his head. “I’m not sure. The departments are aware, but the fact that it’s probably the entire ship with the exception of species like Ocampans that have incompatible hormones? You’d have to ask someone else about that.”

In a voice that was almost desperate, Chakotay said, “The Doctor?” 

To his credit, Tom contained the urge to laugh as he handed over his padd.

***

“I see, Commander.” Kathryn Janeway lowered the padd to her desk. Chakotay stood in front of her, his hands clasped. 

“We weren’t sure …” His voice was unnaturally high, so Chakotay cleared his throat and started over. “We weren’t sure if the female officers were aware of this, ah …”

“It’s called menstrual synchrony,” Kathryn clarified, “and it’s perfectly normal. If it makes male officers uncomfortable, _then that’s their problem, now isn’t it?_ ”

Chakotay involuntarily took a step backward.

The captain’s fingertips went to her forehead. “I apologize, Commander, if my tone is unkind. This is a personal matter.”

“With all due respect, Captain, it’s also a personnel matter. I cross-referenced reports of departmental conflicts with the, ah, calendar, and, over the last eight months there’s been a documented spike every 26 to 31 days in bickering, disputes, and dissention across the entire ship.”

The captain’s eyes closed. If Chakotay thought she was considering what to do, that was fine. In reality, she wanted a heating pad across her lower abdomen, hot chocolate, and a romance novel that would make her laugh and cry and maybe even give her an outlet for this _goddamn horniness_ that got predictably worse certain days out of every month.

She heard the doors to her ready room open and close.

Was she really that irritable that Chakotay wouldn’t stay and talk to her?

A punch in the gut might serve him well. 

Or maybe she could pull his trousers to his ankles and get some orgasmic relief from the cramps across her midsection.

Or maybe he could run the damn ship for a day and she could take a fucking day off for a fucking change. 

What _the fuck_ was his problem?

Kathryn’s eyes snapped open. She typed a communique to all female crew members: _The mess hall. 2300. Be there if you’re off shift._

***

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do.” The Doctor moved bio-lab samples from one shelf to another. “A female officer’s choice of contraceptive booster would normally include medications that prevent ovulation, but _Voyager’s_ replicator energy restrictions in the Delta Quadrant limit the options to hyposprays that provide pregnancy prevention, nothing more.”

Chakotay fought an urge to run. Where would he go? 

“Would you mind sharing that data?” he asked.

“Not at all.” The Doctor bent to access his computer terminal. Within a few seconds, he’d uploaded information on various female contraceptives to a padd.

When he got to his office, Chakotay perused the padd. Then he typed a communique to all male crew members: _The mess hall. 2300. Be there if you’re off shift._

***

Neelix’s worried eyes moved from one side of the mess hall to the other. The captain was speaking in low tones to about forty female crew members with Sue Brooks’ head lifting with every opening of the door to see who might be arriving. On the other side of the room, Chakotay was huddled with a group of close to fifty male crew members. 

Talaxian fingers tapped a Starfleet commbadge. “Neelix to Tuvok.”

“Tuvok here.”

“Would it be too — too much trouble to perhaps deliver a security detail to the, ah, to the mess hall?”

“For what reason?”

Just then, the muted tones in the room were broken by B’Elanna Torres loudly hissing to the other women, “You only have one goddamn uterus, okay? Talk to me when you have two!”

Neelix watched Chakotay’s solemn nod toward the other men. The first officer began to walk toward the women.

Tuvok’s voice over the comm became more urgent. “Mr. Neelix. Do you require assistance?”

The captain broke off from her group. She and Chakotay met in the middle of the mess hall.

“Stand by, Mr. Vulcan,” Neelix whispered. 

“Captain.”

“Commander.”

They both stood ramrod straight, the captain with her hands on her hips. 

“Captain, some of the men have been talking, and, as their representative, I want you to know —”

Susan Nicoletti called out, “What, that you think we’re bitches every four weeks?”

Kathryn held up a hand and glared at the lieutenant. The captain then faced forward again and, with exaggerated politeness, said, “Commander, please, continue.”

“As I was saying,” Chakotay cast a wary glance at the women, especially B’Elanna, “some of the men have been talking and a majority of us have voted for all male crew members to make a monthly donation.”

“Monthly?” the captain drawled. “And just what, may I ask, will the male members of the crew be doing _once a month_ that might be of use? An away mission using every shuttle in the bay? Volunteering to inspect the Jefferies tubes so you’re all out of sight? What, pray tell, might the gentlemen aboard be choosing to do _once a month_ that could possibly be anything more than a shallow desire to escape a biological fact that makes each of you uncomfortable despite the knowledge that the existence of the menstrual cycle is responsible for nearly every person onboard being alive?”

Chakotay ignored the applause from the women’s side of the mess hall. “We’ll be donating replicator rations. Female crewmembers can change their contraception choice to avoid ovulation or they can use the extra rations for symptom relief. It’s our duty as Starfleet officers to render aid.”

The women were slack-jawed in surprise except for Kathryn. Her face fell into her hands. Her shoulders began to shake.

Neelix stepped forward cautiously. “Captain, may I help you with anything?”

Laughing. 

She was laughing. 

“I believe my mood has just improved considerably, Mr. Neelix.” Kathryn then turned to Chakotay. “Thank you, Commander, for your innovative, collaborative solution to this personal — and personnel — matter.”

But before Chakotay could reply, Neelix couldn’t contain his glee. “That’s wonderful, Captain! It’s also my pleasure to inform you that I've made a discovery among some of the foodstuffs. I found three large containers labeled ‘couverture.’”

Blank stares met Neelix until one of the male crewmembers remarked, “‘Couverture,’ that’s a fancy kind of chocolate.”

The women rose en masse, a few eagerly biting their bottom lips. The small Talaxian began to step backward. 

“Neelix to security. I do believe I could use that team now!”

“Belay that, Mr. Tuvok,” the captain ordered, grinning. “Everything is fine in the mess hall. Better than fine.”

Neelix brought out the chocolate and male and female crewmembers mingled as they ate. Neelix learned about the varied symptoms of this “menstrual cycle” not present in Talaxian women. He was most surprised some human women experienced a significant uptick in their libido. When Neelix had questions about humans, he liked to ask the captain. He couldn’t find her, though, among the officers in the crowd. His next choice was the commander, whom Neelix also couldn’t locate in the mess hall. His fingers were about to tap his badge when Tom Paris tugged on Neelix’s elbow.

“Neelix,” he said, steering the Talaxian toward a group of people, “did I ever tell you about my sisters? They taught me so much about women and when to give them their privacy. Let’s have a nice long chat.”


End file.
